Kitty: The Sequel
by 2hot4lilly-kane
Summary: A Sequel to 'Kitty'.
1. Chapter 1

Kitty: The Sequal Chapter 1

"Let's go get some coffee, Bobby!" I poked his arm, but he just curled further into his pillow and started snoring in an overdramatic way.

I pouted at him, but to no avail, Bob just wasn't a morning person. So I crawled out of bed and slipped on some black pants. Bob had convinced me to get some tighter jeans, that people wouldn't look twice at a tail, weirder things could be found everyday in New York City. To tell the truth, I was happy with the new freedom, no longer was I so lopsided and clumsy. You have no idea how much balance a tail gives you.

But, now I was on a quest for coffee. After pulling a long-sleeved gray shirt over my head, brushing my hair carefully and applying a neat layer of eyeliner (a habit I had pick up from Frankie a while ago) I head out the door.

There was a hole-in-the-wall cafe a couple blocks down from our apartment. Bob and I had moved to NYC after graduation, and though I would never admit it to Bob, I was kinda just following my brother. He had finally moved out a few months after I got together with Bob, he and Patrick moved up here and I was really lonely without him. Yeah I had a wonderful boyfriend, but there's something you get from a brother you don't get elsewhere. Though, if we were judging by melodrama, Frank was way more devastated by the loss. He moped around my house for _weeks_, talking of nothing but how much he missed my brother and Patrick. Only cheering slightly when I let him take me shopping and pet my tail. But he still spent an awful lot of time down in that basement, sans clothes.

I took pity on him and let Frank come to the city with us. He attached himself to Patrick's side when we went to visit my brother, and as far as I know he hasn't left their bedroom since. That suited me just fine, Bob and I relished the privacy that was suddenly so available to us, after so long working around parent's schedules and shit.

I pushed the door open to the cafe, the scent so soothing to my sensitive nose, coffee truly was magical. The place was filled with cushy sofas and overstuffed chairs along with spindly tables and stools. They served things in mismatched mugs and the atmosphere of the place was so relaxed you couldn't help but sit back and listen to music, be it live or on the speakers.

I ordered a large mocha cappuccino, two shots, and settled into one of the overstuffed chairs, letting the smooth guitar wash over me. It was a few sips into my unicorn-covered mug before I looked up to see who was playing.

I nearly did a spit take.

The guy, he…he had a _tail_. The man sat on a stool, one leg propped up on the middle rung, making complex melodies sound simple; while the tail swayed behind him along with the beat. It was a deep russet, puffy in a long haired way that begged to be run over with gentle hands, between fingers and across palm.

I tore my eyes away from the motion, the slow swish-flick that threatened to hypnotize, to realize I was gripping my poor cup much too tight. I loosened my hold and took a long drink, eyes straying back to the man of their own accord. I focused on his hands, shoulders, head, anything but what I truly wanted to see.

He had a mass of curls hanging almost to his shoulders, they moved almost independently of him, as if the music gave life. As they shifted, a flash of pointed, furry, ear became visible.

Now I could do nothing other than openly gape at the stranger. I had _never_ met anyone like me before. He must have noticed the stare, 'cause he looked up from his playing, not missing a beat, and looked straight at me. I felt his gaze sweep over my frame, full lips smirking as they settled for a second on my own ears.

Then he winked, okay, fucking _winked_.

Oh god, I needed Bob, like _immediately_. I could feel the familiar panic welling up inside me, and I scampered out of that place as fast as I could; sprinting the whole way back to the apartment. As soon as I got there, I threw off my clothes and burrowed in next to my boyfriend, not wanting to admit I was shaking but still so fucking grateful when he wrapped me up in his strong arms and held me close.


	2. Chapter 2

Kitty: The Sequal – Chapter 2

"Mikey, baby, please tell me what's wrong." Bob pleaded in his low, ear-happy voice, running a hand soothingly down my side.

I just shook my head and buried myself further into his armpit, clinging to his warm, familiar body. Bob continued to rub at my skin, occasionally trailing fingers the length of my tail before returning to my back and shoulders. Until I reluctantly relaxed against him, though I didn't release the death grip I had on him.

I was seriously freaked, I was barely used to people being okay with what I was, even after a year and a half with Bob, you can't just go throwing new things at me. I don't handle change well.

The realization that I may not be alone in the world, something I should have probably already know (but I was from a small town, so I guess you could blame that), it both thrilled and terrified me.

Much the way Bob made me feel when we first met, a tingling feeling softened with a promise that sharpened it all over again in some weird paradox of emotion that made my head hurt.

"I love you Bobby." it was the only thing I was sure of at the moment, his grip tightened around me, a safe cocoon of warm flesh and murmured words.

"Are you gonna tell me why you're so jumpy when we're going to a _café_?"

I couldn't help it if I was a little skittish, I just squeezed Bob's hand and tugged him into the shop. I needed to go back there, _needed_ to, like picking a scab or poking a bruise. Only I knew I couldn't do it alone, so I told Bob we were going on a coffee date. He had smiled and kissed my cheek, I felt awful for not being honest.

I don't know why I didn't just tell him, maybe afraid that I had just been hallucinating, that if I spoke the words aloud it would become a figment of my imagination.

It didn't matter anyway, the man wasn't there. Some folk group had taken his place on the tiny stage.

It actually turned into a date, so I didn't feel quite so guilty, but I still gave Bob a very enthusiastic blowjob when we got home.

"Coffee time, Bob." I announced, dragging my very naked boyfriend out of bed. I figured the guy might only play early, Tuesday mornings. So I forced myself to wait a whole week, for the day to roll around.

"'M tired, Mikes." Bob grumbled, trying to fall back in the bed.

"That's what coffee's for." I tugged him over to the closet, pulling a nice tee-shirt over his head.

"No, that's what sleep's for." his voice was muffled by the fabric, but he wasn't really protesting.

I was already dressed, had changed my outfit three times before settling on a black v-neck and a pair of tastefully worn jeans.

Once Bob was dressed, I led the way outside. He walked with a hand in my back pocket, thumb sometimes rubbing at the base of my tail. The stance so natural it served to calm my sensitive nerves and I moved closer to him.

When we reached the café, I let Bob place the order in a sleepy voice, my eyes scanning the large room. The stage was empty of people, but there was a stool in the center, a slim Gibson leaning against it. As if the person had gone out for a smoke, I kinda wanted to take a picture of it.

Bob startled me out of my thoughts, pressing a warm, scarlet cappuccino cup into my hands. He rubbed between my shoulders, looking concerned. But I just smiled and shrugged, thanking him for the coffee.

"No problem, let's sit down yeah?" I nodded, only slightly put out when he chose a table close to the stage. He made it better by scooting our chairs close together and giving me the most sleepy, love-you eyes over his cup.

I nearly melted, leaning in to kiss his ear. Bob was seriously magical, and he didn't even have to try.

He smirked and nuzzled into my neck, breath smelling of fresh coffee, making me giggle as his beard tickled my skin.

That's when the man came into view, taking his place on the stool and picking up the guitar; fingers graceful over the strings.

Bob noticed my sudden stiffness and peered around for it's cause. My eye's were fixed on the stage, and I felt the breath leave Bob all at once.

"_Oh._." I would have flinched, if the guy hadn't noticed me once more, wasn't smirking like that. Like it was the funniest thing in the world, to see me all nonplussed, before his gaze flicked away again.

"Mikey, honey." Bob's voice startled me out of my little trance, I squirmed in my seat, uncomfortable. "Mikey, do you wanna talk to him? I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

Fuck yeah I did, but why was Bob being so understanding? I'd be jealous as fuck if I caught my boyfriend ogling another guy. Not that I was ogling, 'cause I wasn't…I'm pretty sure I wasn't anyway.

I'm so confused.


	3. Chapter 3

Kitty: The Sequel Chapter 3

"Mikeyway!" Frankie's ever enthusiastic greeting had me on the floor, though this was becoming increasingly familiar.

I hadn't talked to the guy, had just wanted to run away and hide under the bed. I felt guilty and twitchy and I just wanted to take a bath or something. I almost dragged Bob out of there, but not before he asked the barista who was on stage. I hadn't asked him to do that, Bob was just the type of guy that _knew_ things, it made me feel even worse.

But I knew the guy's name now.

_Ray_. It fit him, a single syllable that said so much. I don't know.

But right now Bob had gone off to work, after soothing my nerves in that wonderful Bobby way. Settling us down on the bed and stroking me all over until I felt like a pool of mush and that fucking humming in the back of my throat letting him know how good he made me feel. Then he had to go to the studio, where he did sound for random bands. Not very famous ones, 'cause he was just starting out, mostly just garage groups doing demos. But Bob was good at it, and put a hundred percent into everything he did.

I had called Frankie the second Bob was out the door,

"What's up kitty boy?"

"Can you come over?" I mumbled, fingering the bed sheet.

"Be there in a flash!"

"Aren't you even going to ask why?"

"Nope. I'm bored with Gee and Pat at work, I was gonna come over anyway."

"Oh."

"'Kay, bye!" I stared at my cell for a few seconds before sighing and slipping into some boxers. It took him less than ten minutes to get here and tackle me to the ground.

"So tell me what's got you all ruffled Mikeyway." I glared at him with no real anger,

"Get off me first." he pouted but moved to flop on the couch, patting his lap.

"Come tell Frankie what's wrong." I sat next to him.

"I saw this guy…"

"Is Mikeykins having impure thoughts about other boys?" Frank gasped, I shook my head.

"Not really. Ray, that's his name, he-he's like me…" I stared down at the floor, running hands over the end of my tail in nervous habit.

"Oh, were did you met this guy?" he didn't sound quite as surprised as I felt he should be.

"I-I didn't really," I could feel the heat in my face, "He plays at a café down the street."

"The fuck are you doing here then? Let's get down there and schmooze." he jumped up, pulling on my arm.

"Bu-but I don't, I _can't_. Frankie…" But all my protests were useless.

He forced me into my tightest pair of jeans, and the slimmest shirt I owned, which made me question his motives; though he could have just been doing his Frank thing. He probably would have dressed me up like that to go buy peanut butter.

"He's not gonna be there anymore Frank."

"Sure he will." he dragged me down the street, relentless.

I reluctantly told him where the café was and he barged in through the door, me in tow. I quickly scanned the room,

"See, not here, let's go." But Frank just shook his head and ordered coffee that I highly doubted he needed, pushing me onto on of the cushy sofas.

"He's probably in the can. We can wait all day, Mikeykins." I groaned, sinking further into the couch and allowing Frank to cuddle into my side like the leech he was.

I refused to look up, quietly sipping an iced coffee and responding to Frankie's chatter monosyllabically. Wishing I was anywhere but there, afraid of what I might find. Until Frank kinda squeaked right in my ear,

"Is that him?" my head shot up, "He's _hot_, I don't blame you for looking man, seriously."

It was Ray, he had just walked through the door and stood in line, fiddling with a curl behind one pointed ear. His eyes flicked over the room, settling on me almost instantly, fucking winking _again_. I tried to hide behind Frank, a task nearly impossible, 'cause the dude was tiny and that was _not_ helpful.

"Oh, I'm gonna go ask him to sit with us."

"What? No, Frankie!" I made a grab for his arm but he shot away and was next to Ray in an instant. I hide behind my hands, quietly praying to be struck by lightning.

"Hey." the voice was honey dark, a faint accent coloring the single syllable in an unfair shade of sweetness.

I peaked between my fingers, Frank had a shit eating grin on his face and Ray was smiling so pretty.

"H-hi?"

"Why don't you sit down Ray, I gotta go do something, I'll be back in a few." fucking Frank, I would kill him one day and no one would ever find the body.

Ray's body was a warm presence, settling on the couch next to me, not too close but not far away either.

"I'm Ray," his eyes were a deep brown, and his hand was a little rough with calluses'.

"M-Mikey." his smile grew, and I found myself relaxing against my will.

"Is it safe to assume I'm the first one you've ever met?" I flushed, but he laid a hand on my shoulder and smiled with his eyes. "It's alright, man. I get it."

He steered the conversation into more familiar territory, making me feel comfortable and letting me open up on my own. Which took a surprisingly short time, with his soft accent, warm eyes and soothing words. We got into an intense music discussion, and I found myself agreeing to a jam session.

Frank did indeed come back, joining in on the talk effortlessly, though I couldn't help but notice the lack of invitation to play with us in said session.

I checked the clock on my phone and nearly had a heart attack,

"Shit, I'm gonna be late for work!" I jumped up, this was bad, I had just started at the record store, I couldn't afford to be late. There was no way I could make it there in time.

"I could give you a ride, Mikey." Ray offered, standing.

"_Really?_ Thank you so, so much." I ran to the door, shouting a goodbye to Frankie, Ray led the way quickly to his car.

The traffic gods were merciful and I made it to the store with five minutes to spare. I hugged Ray, letting go quickly when I realized what I was doing.

"Th-thanks," I mumbled, scrambling out of the car.

"Anytime, Mikey." He leaned over and handed me something out the window. "Call if you need anything, man."

I nodded sharply, carefully stuffing the scrap of paper in my pocket, flushing.

"Um, bye I guess. Thanks again for the ride." he smiled and I made my escape into the store.

That wasn't quite as bad as it could have been, really. It wasn't like I was cheating, I could have new friends right? Bob would even get along with him, they shared the same passion for music.

But I didn't want them to be friends…I wanted Ray all to myself, as a friend. A _friend_.

Maybe if I said it enough times that would make it true.

Fuck, I needed Bob. Bob could make me feel less confused, I could spend time lavishing his body and not dwelling on how good Ray smelled. Not like Bob, nothing smelled like Bob, but good. Like a memory you can't quite grasp, but knew was a happy one.

The fact was I could have neither, I had to work. Maybe that could distract me…


	4. Chapter 4

Kitty: The Sequel Chapter 4

"Mikey, baby, I'm home!" Bob called from the doorway, I looked over from my place on the couch.

He was smiling softly, a couple paper bags hanging off a wrist. Curious, I pad over,

"What'd you bring me?" he smirked, holding the bags over his head, I pouted stretching up; pushing myself flush against Bob in the process.

"Nope," his other hand rested on my hip, warm against my skin. Another great thing about living in an apartment: I could be forever, gloriously naked, and the fact that Bob usually joined me in that endeavor was a bonus.

"Bobby, I wanna know what it is, I smell strawberries…" I knew I was whining, but couldn't help it. I _loved_ strawberries.

"Give me a kiss first and maybe I'll let you see." Oh, so that what how he was going to play it, huh?

I stopped stretching up and melted further into his embrace, moving in to suckle on his bottom lip before pushing my mouth to his in a slow, warm, thoroughly distracting kiss. Bob, predictably, lowered his other arm and pulled me closer.

I giggled against his lips and snatched the bags, skipping out of his reach.

"Hey, you cheated." I stuck my tongue out and dug through the bags, placing things helter-skelter across the counter.

Fresh strawberries, whipping cream, shortbread, ice cream…I made a happy noise and pounced on Bob, kissing all over his face. How could I have ever thought about anyone other than my wonderful, wonderful boyfriend? I don't even remember why I couldn't stop thinking about Ray before, whatever it was it didn't matter now. 'Cause Bob was holding me up and backing us toward the nearest wall, capturing my lips in a deep, hot, kiss.

I groaned as my lower back came in contact with the kitchen counter, surface cold against my butt as Bob hitches me up and set me on it; still ravishing my mouth. I moved my hands down out of his hair and tugged at the hem of his shirt,

"Off." he smirked into the kiss, pulling back just long enough to shed the offending item.

My legs rested, wrapped around his hips, hands fiddling with his belt and dropping the loose pants to the floor where they belonged.

"Much better." I murmured hot against his ear, tickling the back of his knee with my tail, loving the vibrations of giggles against my neck.

Bob mouthed a trail of wet kisses across my collarbone, flicking at a nipple and making me gasp and arch towards his embrace.

"Bobby, Bobby, Bobby…" a moan poured out as he rolled his hips, causing wonderful friction. His fingers brushed down my spine and back up, one hand tracing my chin, index settling at the corner of my mouth.

"Open up, love." I did as told, suckling on the tip, slowly drawing it in further.

Why the hell I had even considered _thinking_ of being with anyone else was crazy. 'Cause Bob felt so good inside me, large hands hot on my hips as we fucked against the kitchen counter, fast and passionate and filled with deep moans and panting breaths.

"Shit! I love you s-so fucking much, Bobby…" I gasped out, face pressed into the hollow of his neck, nails digging into the flesh of his back.

He hissed, thrusting faster, a low mantra of my name passing his lips; ending in one of the most beautiful noise in existence.

We clung to each other for a few moments, catching our breath, before I gave a soft giggle.

"The ice cream's gonna melt…"

He snorted, kissing my nose, I was so stupid in love with Bob.

After that, the idea of having a jam session with Ray sounded less like a test of my faithfulness and more like something fun. Plus I could ask him questions about…_things_.

So, when the day arrived that I was to meet him at the café, I packed up Aberrant with a light grin on my face. I dressed not so much to impress, but to be comfortable, tugging a knit cap on at the last moment. I didn't really hate hats as much as I thought I should, after Bob showed me I could be normal without one on. They do come in handy sometimes.

Double basses are pretty fucking heavy, and I was insanely glad that I didn't have to take her far. Ray was leaning against the side of the brick building, one hand held a cigarette, the other stuffed in the pocket of his leather jacket. He took a drag as I approached, smirking around the filter.

"I wasn't sure if you'd show."

I ignored the shiver that crawled down my spine at his voice.

"Course I showed, why wouldn't I?" Putting on a bold front might make this easier.

Ray flicked his cig away, blowing smoke out of the corner of his mouth and pushing off the wall.

"No reason." he waved towards his car, "Let's get you loaded up."

The ride to Ray's apartment was a subtle kind of torture, his smell was seeping in to me again. Like a whisper of a memory that I should know but couldn't quite grasp. Thoughts of Bob were slowly drifting away, to be replaced by the sharp scent of Ray, the way his profile seemed to glow in the afternoon light out of the corner of my eye, the tiny twitch of his ear that shouldn't be so noticeable buried in that mass of curls; but couldn't help but be the center of my (all of a sudden muddled) attentions.

The ride didn't last long though, thankfully. And I spent the entire time with my hands clasped together between my knees, pointedly staring strait ahead, letting the heavy music flowing from the radio fill the silence.

A friend. A friend. A friend.

I repeated the mantra as Ray helped me carry Aberrant up the narrow stairwell that lead to his apartment. Not noticing the way his arm muscles flexed, or the smirk on his full lips.

"Well, it's not much, but it's home." Ray said with obvious pride, encompassing his living room and tiny kitchen with a sweep of his arm.

The inside of his apartment was painted in warm colors, russets and deep oranges. His living room had a small television, with an old school Nintendo hooked up (game cartridges stacked neatly around it). A worn couch was pushed against one wall, but most of the space was taken up by a half-stack, coils of cords, and not a few guitars.

The layout distracted me from my thoughts and I wondered over to inspect the new territory, ever curious. Ray carefully leaned Aberrant against a wall, and watched me look at his stuff. I knew he was staring at my ass when I bent over to examine his game collection, but I chose to ignore it. _A friend…_

"Well, let's play some yeah?" I finally spoke up, walking over to my bass.

Ray smiled, right ear twitching; I hid my flush by concentrating on unpacking my large instrument.

I plucked out a couple notes, scowling faintly before adjusting the tuning. One good thing about sensitive hearing, easy to do that by ear.

I soon lost myself in the deep, soothing sounds of Aberrant; barely noticing when a swift, sharp melody wormed it's way along side. Blending seamlessly together, like so few thing did in life. Kinda like the way I fit so comfortably in Bob's sleeping embrace…

The thought of Bob brought me back to the world, made me aware of where I was and who I was with…and the fact that I was somehow sans a shirt.

Though, that part shouldn't have been as much as a surprise, I tended to shed my clothing at odd intervals; especially when I wanted to feel something closer, have the vibrations buzz against bare skin and sink in to swim around by blood.

What really got me was Ray's lack of upper covering. He was concentrated on his finger work, not looking up very often, playing with his soul. But the music he was making was a bit further back in my mind, in face of that expanse of tan skin, slightly hairy. The smell of him so much more palpable in my nose, urging me to get out of my pants and rub against something, _anything_. To satisfy an itch I hadn't been aware of, but that was suddenly so important as to push every other thought away.

My fingers fumbled over the cords that should have been simple, causing Ray's head to rise, eyes questioning.

Then something flashed behind them and he fucking smirked again, my cheeks burned for the umpteenth time that day.

"I-ah, I need to get go-going." I scrambled to get my shirt back on and zip up Aberrant in her case.

"Why? I thought we were have fun." Ray's honey dark voice drifted over, feeling too close even though I knew he was still over by the couch. The scent intensified, making me hesitate before Bob's face floated past, behind my eyes.

"I just need to be somewhere, that's all." I stammered out, refusing to look up.

"Alright, Mikey." I could hear the smirk in his voice, "Let's do this again sometime, yeah?"

I nodded, not really paying attention to his words.

"Next week then, same time." more nods.

"Sure, I gotta, um yeah, I gotta go…" I flashed a look over at him, gulping at the sight.

"Do you need a ride?"

"N-No, that okay, I have one." I didn't, but I could call Pat, it was his day off.

Ray set his guitar down, slinking over, hand brushing over my hip as he passed to open the door, smiling with his eyes.

"Well, I guess until next week then?"

"What? Oh, yeah, bye Ray. I-it was fun."

"Bye, Mikey." I felt his eyes on me the whole way struggling down the stairs, but wasn't about to ask for help. The faster I got away from Ray the better.

Though, sadly, frustratingly…shamefully, I knew that wasn't the last time we would meet. I would come back, almost as if I didn't have a choice. I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts.

Shit, I needed Bob.


	5. Chapter 5

Kitty: The Sequel Chapter 5

I waited out on the curb for Pat's puke green sedan to come into view. When it did, I was surprised to see that he was alone, before resisting the sudden urge to growl as Frankie sat up, wiping his mouth with the back of one hand. As if I wasn't horny enough, now I would have to _smell_ that shit all the way home, that heavy musk that only dirty acts could bring about. It wouldn't have been as bad, or probably even noticeable, if I'd had normal senses; but _no_, I just had to be born a freak.

"Hi, Mikey. Nice hat, why do you look so agitated? Did something happen? Do I have to get Gerard to go eat someone? I totally will." I shook my head at Patrick's after-orgasm talkativeness, carefully placing Aberrant in the backseat and crawling in after; her neck in my lap.

"How was the jammin'?" Frank asked, stupid satisfied smile on his face.

"Fine, good, just music that's all, nothing else." I rambled, getting a strange look from both of them, I coughed for no reason.

"Can you take me home now, please?"

"_Sure_, Mikey." Pat said in a slow voice, eyeing my fidgeting self.

When we got back I wasted no time in rushing up to the apartment, shedding my clothes, and jerking off before I fucking exploded with suppressed need.

_It wasn't cheating, it wasn't cheating, it wasn't cheating._ I thought over and over, hand flashing, wet sounds filling the air. The figure that bloomed in my mind as I came was unmistakably Bob, but I still felt dirty; because he wasn't the one to get me riled up in the first place.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

Whatever it was, I needed to make it up to Bob for what I just did. Even though he had no idea what was happening. I decided to surprise him with dinner.

Now, it usually wasn't a good idea to let me fiddle with appliances, but this was important. And really, I only almost burnt the house down _once_…or twice.

"Mikey? What's that smell?" Bob walked into the kitchen, face scrunched up.

I frowned down at the pan of goop I had just pulled out of the oven,

"I tried to surprise you…" my shoulders slumped in failure.

Bob chuckled, wrapping his arms around me from behind, nuzzling into the back of my neck.

"That's so sweet, baby. Thank you."

I sniffed, still feeling useless, but my tail wrapped itself around his ankle in gratitude.

"Wanna order a pizza?" I offered, he chuckled again.

"Sure, baby." Bob kissed my neck, shoulder, cheek, working his was around my body until he reached my lips

"You have flour on you nose." he smiled, my face flushing. "You're so cute, Mikey."

I felt a flash of guilt and tried to force it down, kissing Bob nice and long.

It was one of my days off, a few after playing with Ray, when I started to feel twitchy, restless. It was only ten in the morning and Bob wouldn't be back until well after seven. Frank would be busy sexing up my brother and Patrick, so that was a no go.

Damn my lack of friends…

Though, I could always call Ray, he said I could. We could play, or hang out or something. I just needed to be not so alone.

I thought about it for a few minutes, my mind already made up, had been before I even started considering my options. I dug his number out of it's hiding place, in the back of the O to S encyclopedia.

My fingers only shook a little as I dialed,

"Hello?" his smooth voice answered after the third ring.

"Hey, Ray, it's umm, it's Mikey." I scowled at the wall, my unoccupied arm wrapped around my middle in nervous pose.

"Hey, Mikey, what's up?" I bit my lip, he was gonna make me say it, well no point in procrastinating.

"I was wondering if you maybe wanted to hang out, or something." I could almost feel his smirk through the phone.

"That sounds cool, I was getting bored. Do you need me to come pick you up?"

"No, no I'll just ride the bus over to your place." I so didn't want him to know where I lived. This apartment was infused with _Bob_ and I didn't was to taint that by bringing Ray up here.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Yeah it's no problem, I'll be over in a bit." bullet, dodged.

"Alright, see you in a bit then, Mikey."

Ray was only wearing a pair of shorts, _short_ shorts. I averted my eyes and forced down the blush. He smirked, motioning me inside, I had to squeeze past him; our body's pressed flush together for the barest of moments.

We played his Nintendo for a couple hours, Ray said he _did_ own a Play Station but liked the classics better. By the second hour he had convinced me to take off my tank top, saying I'd feel much better; and I did a little. Even with his eyes skimming the curve of my spine.

Despite the scent, that seemed somewhat more subtle than the other day, I _was_ enjoying myself. I hadn't played Zelda in a long time. On my turn Ray went to the kitchen to make a bag of popcorn. It smelled fucking great when he came back, setting the blue bowl full of buttery goodness between us on the floor.

"Let's watch a movie." He suggested, leaning almost across my lap to reach his DVD shelves, I resisted the urge to scoot back.

"What one?"

"Addams Family Values." he answered, popping the movie in and settling back (close) next to me.

I grinned, that movie was awesome, better than the first one. About a third of the way through it, I felt a brushing at the base of my spine, but ignored it. The movie held most of my attentions, what wasn't taken up by the popcorn and ever encompassing scent of Ray.

When the sensation returned, more persistent and further up, I realized what was happening. Ray was trailing his fluffy tail along my back. My shoulders tensed, ears falling back,

"Please don't do that," I didn't look away from the t.v., but I wasn't really seeing the screen anymore.

"Alright…" with a final twitch across the hemline of my jeans, he did, probably smirking, though I was a bit afraid to look.

The back of my neck burned and my fingers kinda shook a little when they reached for more popped snack. Ray's tail may have left my back, but it had settled down over my own.

I didn't know what to think of myself when I did not resist the twining.


	6. Chapter 6

Kitty: The Sequel Chapter 6

"Mikey, baby. You awake?" Bob murmured, fingers dancing up my side under the blanket.

"Mmhmm…" I curled toward the touch, folding myself further over Bob, breathing in the scent of his neck.

"I need to go to Chicago for a few days." his hand had migrated down to my tail, stroking it the way he _knew_ made me turn to putty.

"Huh?" I was a bit distracted by his roaming hands, that familiar warmth spreading through the bottom of my stomach.

"I need to visit my grandma, she's sick."

"But, _Bobby_…" I was slowly catching on, "If you leave, who will take care of me?" what about me that needed taking care of made itself quite present to his hip.

"Aw, poor baby. Don't worry, it'll only be for a little while, a week at the very most. She's a total bitch and this is just a curtsey call so my mom won't kill me."

I knew it was for his grandmother, but seriously, what was I going to do without my Bob for so long?

Well, I would just have to make good the time I did have. Bob didn't seem adverse to my train of thought either, hands moving with firmer intent and filthy purpose.

I had been exceptionally horny lately, something Bob was obviously enjoying. I don't know if it was some weird side affect to my feeling guilty for spending too much time with Ray or what. Just that it felt fucking _awesome_ to ride Bob in the early hours of the morning with the blankets pooled around us and sun shining through cracks in the blinds to bounce softly off his fair hair.

Yeah…fucking great.

I danced Bob into the bathroom, about half an hour later, tail swishing and smirk firmly in place.

"Clean up time, Bobby."

He grinned, sweeping me up in his arms in the cramped space and nuzzled at my neck.

"Only if you promise to help me out."

I giggled, squirming in his bridal-type grip. Seriously, no way I could survive the week.

I sat in the middle of the living room, carpet warm on my bare backside, staring at the wall and moping. Bob had left almost two hours ago(after almost three days of solid fucking to tide me over) and I had no idea what to do; besides think about how he had left, even with me clinging to his leg. About how he had scratched behind my ears _just-like-that-so-good_ and promised to bring me back a present. After which, I had huffed and puffed and planted myself on this little square of carpet and sulked.

Eventually, I realized that being miserable was getting me nowhere and I started picking up the room. Then, straightening a few magazines and fluffing a couple pillows somehow turned into a full-blown war on filth.

Not that the apartment was all that dirty (which, under the circumstances, frustrated me to no end) what with my OCD-like cleaning tendencies and Bob's general neatness. But I needed something to do or I would go insane with my lack of Bob-ness.

It accrued to me, half-way through scrubbing the bathroom floor until it shined impeccably, that having so much sexy-time with Bob right before he left for a week was probably not one of my better ideas. My body had become over-accustomed to him being right there for me to have my way with. Now it was basically screaming at me to get off, and I made the tiles I had just polished dirty once more. Well, at least I had more to clean.

That night, muscles burning from the intense cleaning session, I tossed and turned and generally made a mess of the bedcovers. I couldn't get comfortable without the solidness that Bob provided, he was warm too…and he smelled so fucking good.

Dammit, now I had to jack off _again_. I hated doing that, so messy and lonely.

Tomorrow, I had work. So maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

It was bad…

There were too many people, people with their smells and motions and not-being-Bob. I was a wreak by noon, had spent my lunch break jerking off in the employee bathroom and felt worse for it. Not just because that was in no way correct worker conduct, but because it didn't help…not one little bit.

I went home sick, well not _sick_ precisely, but very, very horny. Supervisors don't normally except that as an excuse, so I went with food poisoning; she seemed to buy it. When I got to the apartment, it smelled like Bob, and I let out a little keening whine that would so mortify me if anyone else was around to hear it.

I stumbled into our bedroom, following the nearly visible trail of his passage, my nose twitching. I crawled up on the bed and groped around for the shirt I had tucked under my pillow, burying my face in the black fabric.

My ears fell back against my skull as I inhaled deeply, _fuck yes_. My tail curled up and around my waist, skin too hot in it's cloth prison. But I was way too far gone to do anything about it, could only flush and hunch over and bury my face further into Bob's shirt.

It smelt so fucking _good_, like warm nights and rough skin and strawberries…I freaking _loved_ strawberries. Bob knew I loved them, that's why he bought that body wash and always brought me treats; he loved me so much. I breathed in his essence again, deeper and more fully than before…

A wet spot spreading though the front of my jeans had me falling down out of cloud nine and straight onto embarrassing-ground-of-pointy-rocks-and-shame. I had creamed my pants just _thinking_ about Bob, from fucking smelling his _shirt_. Shit, what was wrong with me?

I felt better though, lighter somehow. Maybe it wasn't so much the getting off, as another person doing it for me. Or, close to it anyway.

This did not seem the least bit normal, this bombardment of sensation, this feeling of _drowning_ in primal need, was definitely not covered in sex ed. (though how anything got covered with the amount of giggling and crude jokes that went on was questionable)

No, this was something that probably only happened to _me_…people like me. Ray would know what was going on! Ray could tell me why I was humping my bed-_dammit!_ I scrambled to my feet and glared at the slightly mussed spread, as if it were all it's fault I was so horny.

I decided to ignore my current state and instead wriggled out of my sticky jeans and peeled off my shirt. Feeling instantly more relaxed, if not entirely back to normal. My head cleared and I realized calling Ray would not be the smartest move, I should just try and wait whatever this was out. Bob would be back in a few days and everything would go back to the way it was, really…it would.

I lasted three days, well two and a half…and only because Bob called me and we had the best phone sex since the invention of the device itself, at least in my opinion. Bob seemed pretty into it too, so yeah.

But insane long-distance-dirty-talk only went so far in relieving the ache in my body. I hadn't told Bob about anything, it would just worry him and I so didn't want that.

Ray picked up on the second ring,

"Hey, Mikey, what's up?"

I jumped at little sudden voice,

"H-hi. I was…wondering if I could, like, talk to you about," I took a big breath, "…stuff."

"Stuff, or _stuff_?" I could practically hear the smirk in his voice, my tail twitched.

"The second one." I muttered into the phone.

"Let me guess, you feel smothered and inexplicably turned on all the time?"

"Yes."

"Nothing you do makes it go away?"

"Yes."

"You feel like you might just die if someone doesn't fuck you soon?"

"_Yes_." shit, it was so true, I was shaking with the intensity of it.

"Mikey, calm down. It's fine, you're fine." Ray's voice was soothing, "Why don't you come over to my place, we can talk more. I can explain things to you."

"Just talking, right?" he chuckled,

"Yeah, Mikey. No worries."

"Al-alright." I nearly choked on the word and dropped my phone. Talking was good, I could do talking. Ray would explain everything that was going on with me and-and fuck if I knew what then. Just, I needed to go. _Needed to._

I barely remembered to put on some pants and zip up a hoodie over my bare chest before rushing out the door.

The bus ride was pure torture, I curled up in as tight a ball as possible on the hard plastic seat; my tail wrapped tight around my knees and ears flat as they've ever been. By some New York magic, no one even looked twice at the weird kitty-boy having a breakdown two feet from them. Meanwhile, I just tried not to start rubbing up against anything…or one.

My knocking was a little sporadic, but I was twitchy and nervous, so whatever. Ray answered quickly anyway.

"Hey," _fuck, he smelled good_, "come on in."

Ray's fingers were like fire on my back as he shuffled me inside; my breath hitched.

"You-you said you'd explain what was going on with me?" I couldn't look him in the eyes, no more than I could stand still; pacing felt good, steady, constant.

"It's actually quite simple, Mikey." I glanced at him quickly before looking away at the sight of that smirk, pacing faster.

"What's wrong with me?"

Ray chuckled quietly, though not in a mean way.

"You just in heat, Mikey, nothing to worry about."

What the fuck?

"What the fuck?" I had stopped my frantic movements, and just gaped at Ray.

Ray who was much too close and smelled way too good.

"It happens once a year, around this time. We start to give of pheromones," I sniffed involuntarily, ear flicking, "start to get the cravings," he winked, " and have a lot of fun for a couple weeks."

"Wha-?" he was stepping closer, eyes dark, I couldn't find the strength to back up.

"Of course," his voice was as dark as his eyes, dripping sweet, life giving words, "it's only _really_ fun if you have someone that can last as long as you need them to…"

Fingers brushed over the zipper of my hoodie, breath hot across my cheek.

"Do you want me to help you, Mikey?"

I nodded, vision hazing over with pure need, and want, and _nghh_.

The last thing I register before everything is heat-wet-yesyes**yes**, is Ray's smirk and a fucking sharp twinge in the corner of my heart.


	7. Chapter 7

Kitty: The Sequel Chapter 7

There were rug burns on my elbows and knees…_harder, fuck, more_…fingerprint bruises scattered over my hips…_need it, __**please**_…air heavy with sounds of rutting, the scent of feral urges and seeping lust.

Blurry hours fill with toomuch_notenough_ sex; noises, grunts, mewls, moans, the symphony of all basic life.

Floods of satisfaction to mingle with sweat and an underlying current of guilt-guilt-guilt.

It was dark out by the time I was able to struggle out of that haze of pheromones and try to regain some sense. I was covered in sticky sweat and other, less pleasant, things. Ray was napping, plastered against my side, and I had no idea how the fuck we even got to his bed.

My ass burned and my left ear wouldn't stop twitching. I needed to get out of there, before Ray woke up and I lost all sense of right and need. My pants were gross and missing their top button, but I shimmied into them anyway, not bothering with trying to find my hoodie. Not really caring if I froze to death getting back to the apartment, I deserved much, much worse.

It was cold outside, heavy clouds covering up the half-moon, it would probably rain, or snow; maybe I should just go lie in front of a bus.

I got on one instead.

And what really fucking sucked, in all my self-deprecation and mantle of guilt, even freezing cold and shivering half-naked in the back of the bus…through all that, I was still hard as a goddamn rock and wanting to rub one off against the goth kid two seats ahead.

The metal bar gave a dull thunk as my forehead made contact with it.

The apartment was cold and empty and I could probably make some depressingly emo metaphor about how that's what I felt like on the inside; but mostly I just wanted to puke. Then maybe eat a couple gallons of Ben & Jerry's until I needed to retch again.

So I did, except without the ice cream, more headaches, and a raw throat.

And of course, of-_fucking_-course, Bob chooses to come back with me hunched over the toilet, shaking and sweating and too fucking gone to know how much time had passed.

"Mikey, baby, what's wrong?" his broad hand a soothing patch of bliss across my fevered back.

Why hadn't he called and told me he was going to be back tonight? Probably had, and I was just too busy dry heaving to hear the phone.

"B-Bob…" I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please forgive me, _I didn't mean to_.

"Baby, what is it?" His voice was too deep, hands too hot across my spine,

"It _hurts_," I looked up with pleading eyes, puffy with bitter tears, voice scratchy and catching, "it hurts s-so much."

Bob gathered my shivering, overheated form into his arms, wrapped me in his strong embrace. It felt so fucking right, but made the pain shoot up higher than I thought possible. Bob smelled so fucking good and familiar and I needed him like air.

"Mikey, Mikey, it's alright. Calm down, tell me what hurts." his hands rubbed against my skin and I was coming fast and dirty in my already-soiled jeans.

"Nng," it wasn't fucking _fair_, I was still hard and Bob was still there and I smelled like Ray and I was such a horrible fucking person. "I need you, Bob. Need, _need_-please-"

"Hey, hey," he rearranged us so that I was cradled in his lap, limbs too long but fitting like a puzzle against him. One hand braced the back of my neck, the other rubbing soothing circles on my stomach.

I whimpered, squeezing eyes tight shut, tail encircling Bob's wrist. He moved the hand down, settling under the hemline of my jeans, fingers brushing against my burning dick.

"Here?"

I nodded franticly, mewling in the most pathetic way and not caring, until his other hand was brushing through the hair at the base of my skull; leaning over to hum softly in my ear.

"Calm down, I've got you." Bob purred, working my pants off, "It's going to be fine Mikey, let me take care of you."

I moaned, more pained than pleasured, as he started up a steady rhythm; more tears squeezing out. My arms came up and clutched at the front of Bob's shirt, around his neck, through his fair hair; just trying to get a grip on reality and hopping that he wouldn't just disappear into thin air and leave me like I knew he should.

"_I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-_" my pleas were cut off by another orgasm that left things at once clearer and more muddled.

"Shh, baby, I got you." he was rubbing behind my ear, the tears fell harder, joined by sobs and more apologies that tasted of stomach acid and failure.

"I love you Bobby, I'm so fucking sorry. Love you _so much_." I pulled him closer, buried my face in his shoulder. I wasn't hard anymore, because Bob was here and he was all things magical and _right_ in my life; everything I had screwed up because I didn't know how to keep it in my fucking pants.

"Hey, this isn't you fault." he whispered, voice firm with conviction and what could only be absolute truth, "I love you too Michael James Way, you know that, it's not going to change because you go a little stir crazy sometimes."

My head had cleared enough to form coherent thoughts other than overwhelming guilt and sorrow under a haze of lust and all things _Bob_.

"N-no, you're gonna hate me, but I'm sorry, I couldn't stop myself, I should have been able to, I c-couldn't…" Bob's hands did not still in their petting, and I was unable to look up from his shoulder.

"I could never hate you Mikey." but the kiss he pressed to my temple felt condemning, "Tell me what happened."

As much as I wanted to just cry myself further into exhaustion, I couldn't not tell Bob what had happened. Even though it felt like the words were stabbing me in the heart as they tumbled out my mouth in a jumble of sentences and pain. My fingers clutched harder to their purchase on Bob, unwilling to let go even as my mind said it was futile to think he would still want me after everything damned it.

"Mikey." his voice was deep, sharp and demanding; looked up.

"I-I'm s-so sorry-" he cut me off with a dark look,

"Mikey, you're going to put on some pants and then take me to Ray's place."

Oh, fuck. I really didn't want to do that, but to deny Bob anything would be folly.

"O-okay."

The entire bus ride was spent in stony silence and I shivered under the coat Bob had wrapped me in before leaving. I doubt it was from the cold.

It took a minute for Ray to open the door, but considerably less for Bob to punch him in the mouth,

"What the fu-" and again.

"Listen up fucker, you see this?" Bob grabbed me by the ear and yanked me forward, Ray's eyes widened slightly, and he nodded; one hand covering his bloodied mouth,

"You _see_ this?" he shook me a little, ear still tight in his grasp, "This is **mine**, asshole. I don't give a flying fuck if your all cat and I'm not, you do not mess with my shit."

"Dude, he came to me."

I whimpered, and Bob _growled_.

"He may have got on that bus and come over here, but you, motherfucker, **you** took advantage of him when he was scared out of his damn mind. And you are seriously lucky I have the self-control to not fuck you up right here and now. If you ever, ever, even _think_ about coming near him again, I will not be so nice."

Ray scoffed and spat a bloody glob at Bob's feet,

"He's not worth my time anyway."

Tears pricked at the corner of my eyes, but Bob, Bob turned fiercer than I had ever seen him; even accounting the last five minutes. He dropped my ear and launched himself at Ray, burying his fist first in his nose, then every other available bit of flesh before him.

Ray tried to fight back, but it was useless in face of Bob's anger and he mostly just tried to curl up as Bob fucking schooled his ass in the entryway. I shrank back, ear burning, unable to categorize my thoughts and feelings into anything more than: _Bob said I was his_ and the overwhelming rightness of it.

With one last, vicious kick, Bob stood and slammed the apartment door, turning to face me. He had a split lip and eyes that burned me down to the core,

"Let's go home." he started walking, and I stumbled to catch up.

"Y-yes, Bob."

He didn't look over, but tucked me under his arm all the same, and I felt a little better; like I might be able to go on.


End file.
